


I Image the World With You In It

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Brief Reunion, Crying, Family, Gen, Humor, Hurt, Love, Parallel Universes, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18632671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: Brighter than a thousand suns,the air is perfumed by gardenswhere laughter grows abundant;how beautiful I imaginethe world with you in it.A final meeting with her sons, and the first with her grandson.





	I Image the World With You In It

**Author's Note:**

> **[DO NOT REPOST/REUSE MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]**
> 
> SOMEONE DREW ON TWITTER AN AU WHERE EVA WAS ALIVE AND I CAN'T FIND IT ANYMORE. :'( PLEASE HELP. 
> 
> ALSO, THIS IS MY 100TH WORK OM AO3, AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE IT BE THIS ONE. THANKS FOR READING!

It was an accident, none of them expected it, not even Vergil who is Yamato's true master its creator. The sword their father had gifted that blade to the oldest with the power to split the veils between worlds—both demon and human—but never could anyone have thought that it could also split between  _universes_. 

Maybe it's because of the location, an old observatory long left to the indifferent wrath of nature, or it's just a once in a lifetime chance, but it doesn't matter. There is one right before them, a wound in reality spreading around them, turning the ruins into what seems to be a replica of the library which once existed in their childhood manor, and sitting at their father's desk is a figure of a woman they never thought to see again, a woman whose yellow hair is now pale and streaked with with silver. There are creases on her face, the tell-tell signs of a human aging. She is older too—it's been over thirty years—but she's still wearing the same deep red shawl and the same black turtleneck dress with the golden floral accent. 

Once this illusion settles, she notices their presences and looks up from the letter she's writing, a sob bursting from her heart at the sight of them, grown up into men and  _alive_.

"Vergil? Dante? Is that you?" she asks, her face contorting with pain and joy and everything in between before placing her hands over her mouth in disbelief.

The brothers too couldn't believe their eyes, frozen on the spot, as they try to wrap their minds around this. Vergil turns pale, eyes wide, but something in his breaks without his permission, tears falling down his face without expression or sound. He's trembling, and so is Dante when his brother grabs him by the hand. 

"Mother?" the younger twin braves first, looking at the woman with a hopeful smile, and he drags the both of them closer to her, not believing that this isn't the woman who gave them life. 

They stand before here, and the woman chokes out another sob, reaching out her arms as she laughs and cries simultaneously.

"My boys," Eva says, tears running down her cheek as a smile threatens to break her face.

She grabs them by the sleeves and pulls them in an embrace, _solid_ and _real_. They fall onto their knees, burying their faces into her shoulders. Their free hands grip at her shawl. 

"Mother," Dante says again, lifting his face up to reveal the tears staining his face. "Ho— You're alive."

Eva chuckles through her tears, brushing her fingers through Vergil's hair. He has yet to pull from her in the slightest. " _You're_ alive," she says back, holding Dante's face up by the chin. "You're  _both_ alive. I never thought I'd ever get to hold you in my arms ever since that night. Oh, Dante, you're beautiful, and strong. Your father would be proud."

Dante closes his eyes at the praise, letting it sink in that it's been so long since he'd heard that. "What happened that night, Mother? You left and never came back, I lost Vergil. I didn't know where you were, you never came back," he says, and he lets out a new wave of sobs, clutching tighter at her shawl and his brother's hand. 

The woman chokes, whimpering almost pathetically at his side of the story, a story that she would rather much prefer to hers. 

"When I left you in the closet that night," Eva starts, pressing a kiss on the top of Vergil's head, "I went to look for your brother, but it was too late. The demons got to him first and they killed him, leaving only his head. It was something out of a nightmare, something I'd always feared, and it happened. I was too weak to protect Vergil, too  _human_ to save him."

Vergil stiffens, squeezing Dante's hand back. 

"I only had you left, Dante," she continues, weeping openly, "so I went back, tried to reach you before they took you away from me too. I went back to the closet, but you were gone. You were gone, and the demons left because they did what Mundus had sent them to do. I found you in the garden, baby, and they'd ripped you apart. I lost the both of you, I'm so sorry." 

Dante's speechless, feeling like he's a child again. It is a feeling simultaneously wonderful and terrifying. He wants to say sorry, it should be him apologizing. He never went back to look for her when the night past, he followed exactly what she said, running away and never looking back. She has nothing to be sorry about, she risked her life to protect them. It was not her fault that she failed, she did her best, much more than whatever Dante could ever do in his life. 

"Mother," Vergil says, voice muffled against their mother's skin, "I'm the one who should be sorry. I have done so many things, hurtful things. You didn't fail, Mother, I did. Forgive me. Forgive me, Dante."

The younger's eyes open in mild surprise, looking over to his brother—his twin, his other half—and Dante can't help but smile, pulling Vergil out of his hiding spot. Vergil, even in his youth, turn red when he cries, the rim of his eyes swollen and his nose flushes with effort to restrain his cries. His usual slick back hair is messy but keeping its form, his face exposed entirely. It's an expression that Dante loves, and he wants to see more of it. 

"Only if you say you love me, brother," Dante says, laughing at the sudden frown on Vergil's face. 

"Foolish," Vergil replies, huffing as he wipes his tears from his face with the sleeve of his jacket, "I will not."

"Ha? Then I'll never forgive you! Make it up by saying it a hundred times!"

"You don't need the attention, you're a nuisance enough without it." 

"You trying to say something? I'll fight you."

"And I will win as I always do."

The two fall easily into a banter, something light and natural, and to that, Eva laughs, something hearty and genuine. Her smile is wide as her tears turn joyful in seconds, the past not entirely present but there where it lifts the heart from the depths of sorrow. 

"You two and your fights," she says with a hint of nostalgia. "You'd always try to remain indifferent, Vergil, and Dante always knew how to get under your skin. But I'd always suspected that you could never say no to your brother."

"I knew you love me," Dante adds, laughing. Then he pauses, looking back at his mother. "I've missed you, Mother. Every day. I wish I was there to help you."

Eva smiles gently, brushing her son's hair from his face.

"All is well now, Dante," she returns. "Seeing you alive again has rested my soul. I mourned for the both of you for so long, but I think I can find my peace now. Where I live now Mundus had broken his seal, but he'll never conquer the human world, not while I'm alive, and I live to honor the memories of you. It's a hellish world where I am, but here, it's good. Is it, Dante? Vergil?"

They couldn't lie to her—they don't want to—but how could they tell her of all the hurt and pain they'd been through, fighting each other as the world burned around them and wavering between life and death because neither seemed worth pursuing any longer?

"We—" the twins say at the same time, stopping at the note of the other, and neither continues.

Eva sighs, not in disappointment but in acceptance. "It's okay, my loves," she says. "If not the past, then what about now? You're together again, aren't you? Has it been better?" 

Dante nods, hoping that Vergil feels the same, but he doesn't look at his brother. "Yeah, Vergil promised not to leave," he says, but that's not entirely true. "He promised to stay."

Vergil had never said anything of that nature, but not once has he tried to leave Dante since their return to Hell. It's an unspoken choice to stay on the older's part, but the younger wishes to hear it spoken and witnessed by their mother. (Dante is a smart man, always have been.)

The older twin frowns, but at the expecting look of their mother—who understands the weight of promises—Vergil sighs not in disapproval but in acceptance because he knows what Dante's doing. "I did," he says out loud. "I've returned to my proper place."

Dante resists the urge to start crying again, finally hearing Vergil admit that with his own ears. He has not yet lost his brother, and he could not love the other any more than he does now, his entire being surging with contentment.

"Love you," he says instead, pulling Vergil's hand close and kissing it in gratitude which is a great development from stabbing and tearing at it in retaliation during their childhood. 

Eva watches happily, her sons together again and getting along like they always did. The gestures may be different, gentler and kinder, but it's because they have learned to convey their emotions without bloodshed and swords. 

They are interrupted when the door of the office bursts open, the youngest of the devil family fuming with his astral wings positioned accusingly with a pointed talon. 

"You assholes!" the young man shouts, not taking even a second to read the atmosphere. If he has any reason to chew out either sons of Sparda out, he'll take it. "You said to come with you on this job so we can  _hang out._ It doesn't mean ditch me to deal with all the demons by myself! Bitch." 

Vergil rolls his eyes, shaking his head, as Dante laughs, getting up and helping his brother.

"Nero," the younger twin addresses in his usual tone. "Sorry, buddy, totally forgot you came with us today."

"Don't lie to me, Dante," Nero says, crossing his arms. Then he finally spots Eva who's looking at him with a delightful shock. "Who's the old lady? She kinda looks like Trish. And what's up with this room? Looks nothing like an observatory. Also, have you been crying? Your eyes look funny. Old men should get more sleep."

"Watch your tongue, boy," Vergil warns.

Dante, on the other hand, takes it one step further by coming up to the young man and smacking him across the back of his head. "Dumb brat," he mutters with some amusement. 

"Jerk!" Nero shouts, smacking Dante back on the same spot. He turns around, shaking his head. "If there's nothing left, I'm going ho— Hey!"

Dante pulls the youngest backward by the arm, dragging Nero towards his brother and his mother. 

"Dante, who is this?" Eva asks, sounding excited, and Dante throws Nero at her feet, snickering.

The younger twin looks at his brother, and Vergil sighs. "Mother, this is my son, Nero," he says, gesturing to Nero and then gesturing back. "Nero, this is your grandmother, Eva."

On the floor, Nero's mouth gapes open as his eyes widen, and he shoots his head back towards Dante who's grinning like a fool. In a hush and urgent whisper, the young man says, _"What am I supposed to say to her? I have a **grandmother?** I leave you two for  **one second**!"_

"Relax," Dante says, waving his hand. "She's not gonna bite." 

"Oh, just come over here," Eva says, speaking for herself as she pushes her wheelchair close, and she takes Nero gently by the face. " _Nero_ ," she tries out. "my grandson, what a beautiful boy."

Nero blushes at the compliment, not pulling away as he clear his throat out of nervousness. "Th— Thanks," he says lamely, feeling like he wants to crawl into a whole for a year, and he blushes even more, which makes Dante nearly collapse in laughter as Vergil rubs at his temple in disbelief of his son's inelegance. 

Eva merely chuckles, tracing Nero's cheek with a thumb. "Sparda used to get so red in an instance," she tells him. "The smallest praise, and he'd trip on his own feet, so unused to human affection. Whenever Vergil or Dante told him they loved him, Sparda would take a moment in the next room. He was such a ridiculous devil." 

"We said that?" Dante asks, trying to remember, and then he shrugs. "Can't say I remember much about the old man anyway."

"It has been a very long time." Eva lets go of Nero, who takes the chance to stand up. "I'd always thought that Vergil would be the one to have a child"—Vergil huffs somewhat smugly, having done his duty as the first born of passing on the bloodline—"Dante was far too busy chasing after his brother to think much anyone else, whether it was for fighting or comfort." 

Dante decides neither to deny nor confirm that, seeing that he did spend decades stopping Vergil from his chaotic rampage. He just looks away, scratching at his jaw so he doesn't have to answer.

"So what's going on?" Nero asks, gesturing to the whole room. "Are you really my grandmother?" His tone is not offensive but blunt. He was not there to see how all this came to be, but he could make a guess. (Eva was already dead. This Eva's eyes are also red and swollen, as if she was crying too. She said  _expected_ ,  _was._ Her Vergil and Dante are not with her. She looked at her sons as if she had just found them again. She lost them, like they lost her.) Unlike his father and his uncle, Nero isn't a (complete) dumbass.

"I sensed an old magic on the grounds," Vergil supplies, "there's a thin veil here, very thin and very sensitive. Yamato sliced through it without intention, and I suspect it's because the veil is unstable due to its unusual nature."

"It's veil between  _universes_ , not dimensions," Dante continues, walking back to his mother and taking her by the hand. "I can't believe that stuff is real."

"Demons and devils exist," Eva argues lightly. "Not too unbelievable."

"Does that mean all of this is going to go away?" Nero asks. "It doesn't seem like a good idea to let it be." He catches his father thinning his lips but Vergil's eyes burned in resistance, and no longer hesitant, the young devil hunter takes a step forward to his elder and jabs a finger into his father's chest. "Whatever you're thinking," he says quietly but firmly, " _do not_."

Vergil narrows his eyes in challenge, still but ready. "You do not tell me what to do," he refutes. 

"No, but I'll beat your ass again if I have to. I haven't paid you back for ripping my arm off yet,  _Father_."

The other man's expression flickers between anger and what may seem to be a hint of guilt. The guilt, and perhaps out of love, Vergil nods, his lips thinned again in bitterness. 

"Good," Nero says, inwardly glad that a fight is not needed today. He holds out his hand. "Give me Yamato, I'll take care of this."

That, Vergil tightens his muscles, the thought of willingly giving away his beloved sword almost frightening. " _I'll_ handle it," he says. 

The younger man rolls his eyes. "No," he says again. "You're going to say bye to Grandmother. I know she'll understand, but I need you to make sure that Dante doesn't do anything stupid."

Vergil still hesitates. 

Nero shakes his head, a clear frown on his face. "Listen, if it was Credo sitting there, I would completely understand how you're feeling right now. He was the man who raised me, Kyrie's brother,  _my_ brother, and you would do the exact. Same. Thing. I don't know you as well as I knew him, but we're family. We pick up each other's messes. That's something I learned from Dante, and you owe it to him. So give me Yamato, and let's get this over with."

The older man grimaces, but he hands his beloved sword to his son. "Thank you," he says, half begrudgingly. 

Nero is right; Eva couldn't stay, _they_ couldn't stay. Their worlds are separate, and the past cannot be changed but accepted. That is in the progress of recovering, and the next step is to let it go. 

Vergil inhales deeply before he walks to his mother and brother, who are talking as if the last thirty years never happened. He used to be jealous of Dante for that skill, bringing back only the good things to make for the liveliest conversation, be it with family or strangers. It was what made him the more popular twin in the neighborhood. But that kind of thing doesn't matter anymore, it never really did.

Only recently did Vergil learned that it's just a mask his brother wears when things get too painful, too lonely, to deal with. Dante hid behind in the brightness of the world while he chased the shadows, two brothers heading in different directions, but in this end, they met again in the exact same place. 

"Mother," Vergil interrupts gently, and he places a hand on her shoulder. He looks at her with yearning, but he forces himself to say, "We have to go." He has so many thing to say to her. 

Hurt crosses Dante's face like a knife, but in his eyes, he knows that too, better than Vergil ever did. He doesn't say a thing to 

Eva, she just smiles, nodding her head as if that was the mos obvious thing in the world, and she places her hand on her son's, pressing a kiss against Vergil's skin.

"I know," she replies, letting out a sigh. "Some things aren't meant to be, our worlds are so drastically different. Who are we to try and change that? I wouldn't. If there exists a world where my two precious sons are alive and well, with a grandson too. This is far grander than how I imagined the world with you in it." 

"Mother," Dante says, choking on a sob. His tears are renewing, but he bites his bottom lip to save face. He takes her by her free hand. "I love you, I miss you every day."

"And I love you, Dante," Eva returns with a bittersweet smile. "I miss you every day, I dream of the both of you in my arms." She turns to Vergil. "I love you, Vergil, don't you ever forget that. Either of you. In life and death, my heart aches for you." 

The two brothers start to cry again, unable to hold onto their dignity as grown men because they feel like children again. _They're losing their mother again._  

Nero watches his family. He'd never thought he'd see the day that he sees both his father and his uncle cry, but he bets that no one in this room ever had thought that this would happen, to see the person you loved again and hold them once more in your arms. The young man bats away his own tears, turning away from their moment, and he waits patiently. 

Nero doesn't question how long it takes for the trio to stop, and he doesn't say anything about it when he hears his grandmother call his name. 

"Nero," she says, "we're ready to go now."

The young devil hunter turns back around dutifully, giving her a nod. Vergil and Dante are still holding her hands, the former still standing but the latter at kneeling at her feet.

"It was nice meeting you, Grandmother," he says, taking Yamato out of its sheath. "Sorry it had be this way."

Eva shakes her head in understanding, squeezing her sons' hands. "Meeting you was a miracle, my dear. I see that there's someone else to love them as I do, so for that, thank you, Nero. Know that I love you too, my dear grandson." 

Nero holds back a grimace. He never you could love someone you barely knew, but he knows that his grandmother is a kind woman, a beautiful woman no matter how many years had passed. Sparda left a good time before that night, but they stayed together, living in that manor in Red Grave. When _she_ died, there was nothing to keep her sons together, save for the thin string that tied their fates together. Her death was what brought the end of the world and what brought it back, two brothers striving to survive because they didn't know how to live in a world without her. 

Eva, in life and death, is binds them, in both blood and bond, and Nero wishes he got the chance to know her, to grow up with her. 

"I love you too, Grandmother," Nero says, unable to stop a single tear, and he cuts through the air, wounding the fabric of reality with a cross. 

All around them, the illusion breaks, the imitation walls of the library fading away little by little like ashes. In their grasps, Eva fades too, like a memory, but her smile remains, even as her sons' hands slip through hers. Dante gasps at the loss, and Vergil remains silent, watching her as she disappears slowly before their eyes. 

In the last moment before their worlds disconnect, Eva lets out a laugh, something like daffodils ringing in the breeze, and she echoes out of existence. Her sons continue to stare where she once sat, their hands still trying to hold her again. They look like shadows in the observatory ruins, their backs in mourning. 

Nero takes a deep breath, sheathing his father's sword. He walks towards them, and bringing out his astral wings, he grabs them by the shoulders and pull them into a hug, his wings keeping them close and his arms around their backs. 

"It's going to be okay," the young man tells them, hugging them tighter. "I'm here, okay? If you're going to keep crying, don't try to hide it. Didn't you hear, Grandmother left the taking care of you dumbasses to me. I'm not her, but I'll try." 

He doesn't get much of a response, save for two hands gripping at his jacket, until Dante is laughing at his side. 

"Who you calling dumbasses, dumbass?" the younger brother asks, pulling his face away. Dante's nose and eyes are red, but he's sporting a wet grin. "Last time I checked, I have at least one brain cell." 

Nero snorts. "You lost it when you got that hat Nico gave you," he rebuts. "I can't believe it comes with that damn scarf."

"Hey! It's a good looking hat."

"My ass it is."

Dante laughs again, not a bit offended by the comment, and he pulls away first, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "I'm hungry," he says, "let's grab some pizza on the way back."

Nero feels his father pull away too, the older brother's nose and eyes just as red. "Your eating habit is getting out of hand, Dante," he chides. "We'll be stopping by a grocery store instead."

"Huh? No way!"

With that, Dante starts for a run towards the door, and on the way, he takes Yamato from Nero's hand, laughing loudly. 

"Hey, give that back!" Nero demands, too late to grab his uncle, and Dante is already out the door. The younger man runs after him, cursing him without restriction. 

At their antics, the corner of Vergil's lips perk up. He knows he should follow them, before they leave without him, and without Yamato, he'd be forced to walk all the way back. And yet he takes another look over his shoulder, seeing nothing. He expects nothing else, but for a moment, he had a kindling of hope. It has all but been extinguished, but he finds that it wasn't so bad to look back this time. 

Vergil's lips widen to a smile, tiny but there. 

"Hey," Nero calls out from the door, sticking his head back in, "are you coming?"

"Yes," Vergil answers, and for the first time in years, he looks forward to tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> Nero is a sweet boy, you guys, and Eva would've loved him. :'( 
> 
> (I tried, lol.) 
> 
> [I FOUND THE ART](https://twitter.com/qouii/status/1119079687655813121?s=19)
> 
> If you like my work(s), please check out [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/kappachyun?s=09).


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